Caramelized Lives....

My friend Deepak Amembal has an amazing wanderlust, which he shares with his motorcycle and his car. Currently driving through Goa, he has been posting wonderful scenic photos, and recently posted one  of a caramel custard,  which he probably devoured minutes after clicking it.

Carmelization of sugar has fascinated me. When many experiments in cooking have ended in an unavoidable caramelization of sugar where none was expected,  it is nice to look at a dish where sugar was deliberately caramelized.

Naturally , I saw a political message in all this. There are no free desserts in life.....

There is egg white
and flour white
and sugar white.

But the attraction here
is the golden brown caramel,
a result of sugar
throwing caution
to the winds,
and burning up a brown storm,
before all the whites
pour in.

A piece, slightly shaky,
as if on tenterhooks
as someone spoons a piece.

Unlike in the biped world,
peace reigns in a multi color
caramel custard world,
where the custard simply accepts,
that she would be nowhere
without the caramel .

Something Trump needs to know
as he digs into
his own caramel custard
in Florida.

Mind Calls....

  When you live away from your folks in another country, and sometimes memories come flooding in,  it is comforting to look at old photos which you took.     My friend Preeti Deo who lives near London, recently posted this wonderful capture of doors and windows "that speak" , which she clicked at Jalna , her native place in India.    For some reason,  this photograph spoke volumes to me. Mostly about closed minds, slowly making and effort to open up, and how we must do our bit to help. A burning question today, where mental health issues are being addressed.   A poem in Marathi was the immediate result. I did an English version later.     (photo courtesy Preeti Deo)

 

मनाचे कप्पे . काहींच्या मनाचे कप्पे तुमच्यापासून त्या निळ्या दरवाज्यासारखे बंद असतात; आतल्या आत , कधीकधी अनागोंदी , अव्यवस्था , आणि गोंधळ , आणि मग अचानक कधीतरी मनातली एक अर्धवट खिडकी उघडू पहाते; एक मूक निशब्द आर्त हाक असते, आणि मदतीसाठी खिडकीतून बाहेर धरलेला अदृश्य हात असतो . आपण तो पकडायचा असतो, आणि खिडकीच्या आतल्या मनाशी संवाद साधायचा असतो जेणेकरून आतला गोंधळ व अनागोंदी , आटोक्यात येईल . यश येईल जेव्हा खिडकी सोडून मन आपले सर्वात मोठे मनोद्वार उत्साहाने उघडून आपल्याशी संवाद साधेल. मग आपल्याला कितीही उंच चढावं लागलं तरी चालेल . मनातल्या मनात जगायचा नसतं; पण जगाशी संवाद साधून श्रीमंत व्हायचं असतं ​.....

Some minds, perhaps loaded to the brim with brownian thought motion, confusion and chaos, keep themselves shut from you, like the blue door; suddenly , at some point, a mind window opens, like a silent scream , holding out an invisible hand for help. It is ours to hold it, comfort it, and talk to it, so as to reduce the chaos and confusion inside. Perhaps the mind will learn, communicate, and perhaps, open up the biggest door it has. It is up to us , to rush in there to help. It does not matter how high one has to climb. Looking inward is not living. And holding a dialogue with the world around you, enriches you immeasurably.